


Place of Safety

by PeroxidePirate



Category: Emelan - Tamora Pierce
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-11-29
Updated: 2010-11-29
Packaged: 2017-10-13 11:03:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/136615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PeroxidePirate/pseuds/PeroxidePirate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daja and Sandry talk things over and reach a conclusion.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Place of Safety

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kit](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kit/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Safe Spaces](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/1944) by Kit. 



> As promised (or maybe threatened?), this is fanfic of a fanfic.

As they finished the last of their dinner, Lark wiped her hands on a napkin. “Evvy,” she began.

“I know, it's my turn.” The teenage girl got up and started collecting plates, which she carried over to the sink at the sideboard.

Briar followed, snagging a towel from the nail on which it hung. “I'll dry.”

“That's no fair,” Glaki protested. “It's Evvy's _turn.”_

“At our house, it's my turn,” Briar said, with a wink. “Perfectly fair.”

Glaki stuck out her tongue, but then subsided.

Daja suppressed a grin. It actually _was_ Briar's turn to do the washing up, but that wasn't why he'd offered to help, and she knew it.

She looked up in time to see Evvy giving him a shove – but the look on her face was nothing but affection.

 _They're sweet,_ Sandry said, into Daja's mind.

 _I suppose,_ Daja answered. She missed the cutting remark Tris likely would have made, had she been with them in Summersea.

“Comas and I have midnight temple duty tonight,” Lark announced. “Would anyone else like to join us?”

Rosethorn rested her head on Lark's shoulder. “It was my turn last night – I didn't get much sleep. It's bedtime for me.” She looked at Glaki. “You too, little one.”

Glaki rolled her eyes, plainly certain she was too old to need telling about something so basic.

“We'll be along later, maybe,” Briar said, not pausing in his dish-drying, and Evvy nodded agreement.

Sandry excused herself. “I wanted to take a walk, actually.” Through their magic, she poked at Daja.

“I think a walk would be perfect,” Daja said. She nodded to Lark. “But thank you for the invitation.”

.

They took the path from Discipline to the curtain wall, climbing up to stand atop and face the sea. It was a chilly night, but clear and bright, with a full moon.

“Tris would love this weather,” Daja said, when they came to a stop, side by side, leaning on the rail.

Sandry grinned, leaning closer to bump Daja with her elbow. “Anyone would love this weather. Do you feel it? It's like anything can happen.” She turned as she said the last, meeting Daja's eyes.

There was an intensity in Sandry's manner that went straight to Daja's core. When she spoke, her voice was thick in her throat, but she didn't look away. “'Anything' covers a lot of ground.”

“All right, not anything, then. Maybe just this.” Sandry leaned up, quickly, and pressed her lips to Daja's.

After a brief, startling kiss, Sandry stood back, looking at Daja expectantly.

Daja returned her gaze for a moment and then looked away, watching the sea once more. She was thinking through the past few months, taking apart individual memories and putting them back together with the new, unexpected knowledge that Sandry – Sandry wanted something new from her.

But no: it wasn't unexpected; not really.

Daja finally turned toward her. “What are you asking?”

Sandry shook her head. “I'm not asking. I'm telling. Daja, this is how I feel.”

“And how's that? Like you want to be with me, or like you're curious? Like you want to try something out?”

“No!” Sandry gulped. “And what makes you think I haven't already? Tried, I mean.”

Daja froze. “Have you?” she asked, carefully.

 _“Yes._ Not that it matters, but yes.”

“When? Recently?”

“Since we've been back.”

Daja's heart twisted in her chest. “And you didn't _tell_ me, _saati?”_

“I wasn't under the impression you wanted to talk about that kind of thing.” Sandry's lips stretched into a frown. “Not with me.”

“You're expecting to skip the talking and go straight to bed, then?” Daja asked flatly.

Sandry glared. “I told you, I'm not expecting anything, I'm not asking anything. I'm just telling you – showing you – what's in my heart. What happens next is up to you.”

Daja sighed. “And if I say I don't want this, now, with you?”

Sandry twisted her hands, but her voice was steady. “Then at least I know.”

Daja was the one to avert her eyes, gazing into the distance once more. “Who was she?”

“Don't ask that,” Sandry whispered.

Daja swiveled, looking at her sharply. “Why?”

“Because it's not something I want to talk about with you,” Sandry said, honestly.

 _We need to be able to talk to each other,_ Daja said, inside Sandry's mind. _If there's any chance of us... having anything at all... we need to talk. I'm sorry I couldn't, sooner._

 _I understand, I think._ Sandry smiled, a little sadly. _Rosethorn said you wouldn't let me push._

 _Rosethorn?_

 _I talked with her, some,_ Sandry explained. _I felt like you were closing me out, Daj. I needed someone who could understand... and she was there._ There was an incandescence to Sandry's mental voice, in spite of the sadness that did not diminish.

Realization hit. “It was her, wasn't it?” Daja's voice was flat; her heart felt numb. “You went to bed with Rosethorn.”

Now Sandry was the one to look away, out across the water. “She was a safe space, when we were both hurting. Inside the circle, there's meant to be understanding, not jealousy.”

“Why would I be jealous?” Daja asked, even as she realized she _was._ “You're so sure I want you.”

“Don't you?” Sandry stepped into the narrow space in front of Daja, pressing her own back to the rail, and tilted her head up. The look on her face was half challenge, half promise.

Daja's numbness gave way to intense confusion – along with a sharp stab of desire. _Why not?_ she thought, and kissed her. After a minute, she broke away, looking down at the other woman with something that was almost a glare. “When you find out what you want from me, come and ask.”

As she started to walk away, she just caught Sandry's quiet words, behind her: “You too, Daja. You're even less sure about all this than I am.”

.

After walking in aimless, frustrated circles for a while, Daja found herself at the Earth Temple. She craned her neck to see the Hub's clock: the midnight service would be getting out soon. She settled herself to wait, hoping to catch Briar on his way out. They'd become even closer since Tris left Summersea, and he was now the first person she thought of when she needed to talk to someone. Maybe they could ride back to town together.

The bell rang the first hour of the morning, and habit-clad figures trickled out of the temple. Daja watched, but she couldn't find Briar or Evvy among them.

She did see Lark and Comas, and she quickly looked away, hoping it was dark enough to hide her discomfort.

She didn't hear the conversation between the dedicate and the novice – Lark must have whispered, and she wasn't sure she'd ever heard Comas talk, though Lark and Evvy said he did – but she saw Lark touch his arm, and then the young man was walking past, giving her a silent nod of greeting before continuing on toward Discipline.

“Daja,” Lark said, with a smile in her voice.

It was all Daja could do not to turn and run.

“Has Sandry gone home?”

Daja swallowed. “I don't know.”

Lark's fingers lifted her chin, and Daja met her foster-mother's eyes: she did, most of the time, know when to give in gracefully.

“I wondered if she'd tell you.” Lark's thumb brushed her cheek, and then she dropped her hand. “Shall we walk for a while, then?”

Daja nodded mutely. Lark looped an arm through hers and guided them in the direction opposite the one Comas had taken.

“You know,” Daja wondered, “about Sandry and Rosethorn?”

“Of course.” There was no hint of pain or anger in the dedicate's voice.

They walked in silence, Daja considering. “Why?” she asked, not really expecting an answer.

“They're very much alike,” Lark said, with a gentle smile. “They're headstrong and quick, and have to _know_ things the moment they think to ask. People like you and I can't do anything but wait, while they find out whatever it is they have to find out.”

Daja looked at Lark in surprise. “That's what I told her. I said I was waiting for her to know what she wanted. I said she should come and ask me when she figured it out.”

“Then you already know what to do.”

Daja sighed.

Lark squeezed her arm. “If she's told you about what happened with Rosie, I imagine she's almost got it sorted out.”

“She didn't exactly tell me,” Daja admitted. “I kind of guessed,”

Lark laughed. “Good for you. It's good if you're quicker than she is, _once_ in a while.” Then she stopped walking, lifting her hand to grip Daja's bicep.

Daja stopped, too, and turned to face her.

“You do want this, Daja?” Lark asked, studying the younger woman's face.

The answer came to the front of her mind, unexpectedly clear and certain. “Yes.”

Lark nodded. “That's what matters, my dear.” She leaned up and kissed Daja's cheek.

Daja found herself grinning, as she enfolded her teacher in a tight hug.

“Lark,” she said after a minute, “you and I aren't going to..?”

Lark froze, and then backed slowly away until she was holding Daja at arm's length. “Gods, no.” She gave Daja's shoulders a quick squeeze. “You're a wonderful, strong, beautiful woman, Daja, and I'm unspeakably proud of you. But another thing you and I have in common is a tendency to be very serious about matters of the heart.”

“And Sandry and Rosethorn..?” Daja asked, as they continued to walk. They followed the path as it curved back toward Discipline Cottage.

Lark didn't answer right away. At length, she said, “It's never a good idea to ask for a promise if you know it can't be kept. The strength of the love one person might have for you has no bearing on how that person feels about anyone else. Some folk can give their whole heart, and still have _more_ love to share.”

Daja thought about that. Her confusion and jealousy began to melt away as the other pieces fell into place. She thought about Sandry's fierce protectiveness, the depth of her friendship, and how both of these were extended to anyone she cared about. How the strength of Sandry's feeling for those closest to her was never diminished by her feelings about those to whom she was more distantly connected. It only made sense that she would view sex, and love, the same way.

After a few minutes of silence, with only the distant waves crashing in the background, Daja said, “There's one thing I don't understand. I know what question Sandry was in such a hurry to answer. Lark, what did Rosethorn need to find out?”

“That's personal, dear,” Lark said quickly. After a moment, though, she flashed Daja a cat-like smile. “But between us? No matter who she might sleep with – once in a while – she always comes back home, and stays.”

Daja grinned. In twenty years, she hoped to be just like Lark.

.

When Discipline came into view, Daja was surprised to see lights in the windows of both upstairs bedrooms. One was Evvy's, now that Comas had moved into the room beside Lark's workshop. The other one – Daja's old room – was usually empty.

Lark gave her that cat-smile again, and Daja realized that Sandry must have decided to stay the night. Apprehension settled in her gut, but she found herself grinning anyway.

It could have been Briar, though. Daja sent a subtle pulse down her magical ties to both of them. _Hello?_

 _Buzz off,_ came Briar's reply, from somewhere quite near. _Can't a guy get some privacy?_ A wall slammed down between them.

“Oh,” Daja said, aloud. Her eyes tracked to Evvy's window, just as that light went out.

Beside her, Lark shrugged. Daja realized there wasn't a thing that happened in the cottage, or a thing about any of them, that their foster-mother didn't know.

 _Hey,_ came Sandry's sleepy reply. _Are we talking again?_

 _I will if you will. I'll be there in three and a half minutes._

 _Good. I need some kind of distraction from all the commotion next door._

Daja groaned in exasperation, but quickened her pace.

.

In the living room, Lark handed Daja an extra nightshirt. “There are blankets in the usual place, if you end up wanting to make a pallet down here.”

“Thank you. Thanks for everything.”

Lark kissed Daja's cheek. “It's my pleasure, love.”

Daja climbed the stairs.

.

“That was at least four minutes,” Sandry said, when Daja pushed open the door.

“Lark had to find me pajamas.” Daja turned her back, wriggling out of her clothes and into the nightshirt. She had an impulse toward self-consciousness, but she pushed it down. It was mostly dark anyway, the room lit only by Sandry's nightlight – which she must have brought with her – and besides, Sandry had seen her naked before.

When she faced the bed, Sandry was sitting up, hands in her lap. Her hair hung loose over her shoulders, and she, too, wore a borrowed nightshirt. It was too big, the wide neck slipping off one thin shoulder.

They looked at each other in uncomfortable silence for a minute. “I'm sorry,” they said, at the same time. Then they both began to laugh.

“Come over here,” Sandry said.

Daja complied, sliding between the blankets to sit beside Sandry. It felt _right:_ this place, this cottage, where they'd shared so much. This room, where Daja had come into her own; where she and Sandry had spent countless hours together, talking, sharing their past and plotting their future. It felt good. It felt safe.

“Do you want to talk about... any of this?” Sandry whispered.

Lark's words drifted into Daja's mind: _It's good if you're quicker than she is, once in a while._ “Right now? Not really.” She reached out, tracing Sandry's features with one fingertip: eyebrow, nose, lips. She switched to mind-speech. _This is the only extra bed in the cottage. We practically have to spend the night together. I say we make the most of it._

Sandry was actually holding her breath; Daja realized it when Sandry exhaled, and her chest began to heave.

 _Sandry?_

She laughed with joy, a clear, bright sound. _Yes._ She pulled Daja to her.

.

 _Hey._ Much later, just as she was ready to drift to sleep, Briar spoke into Daja's mind. _Sorry about earlier._

 _'S all right,_ she answered. She tried not to shift too much; she was pretty sure Sandry was already asleep. _You and Evvy?_ she asked.

 _We had a lot to talk about,_ he explained. _She had a hard time in the Battle Islands._

 _Oh. You're not sleeping together?_

 _Well... just sleeping._ His tone said he had to be grinning. _So far._

 _Hm._ She stifled a yawn. _Sandry said there was commotion._

 _It was a... really intense conversation._ For a second he seemed to be focusing on their magical bond itself. _You're still here at Discipline._

 _I'm with Sandry._

Briar's magic poked at the surface layers of Daja's mind, the way he'd peer at her face if they were looking at each other in person. _You're with Sandry?_

Daja hesitated, memories filling her mind. _I don't know yet._ She looked down, picking out the details she could by the dim glow of the night light. _I kind of think so._

 _I kind of think so, too._ Sandry's magical voice was sleepy and teasing. _Now stop gossiping, you two. I'm trying to get some sleep._


End file.
